In the original classic, the threat was concentrated in a building. The second took place in an airport; New York was at risk in the third, and for the fourth film, the threat expanded nationally, putting the United States at risk. Naturally, what’s at stake this time is international in scope. I read somewhere, they’re making a sixth film; maybe rereleasing Armageddon in theaters with a different title would crack the universal extension of hazard. Anyway, the scope expands, and each sequel is worse than the one before. It doesn’t take a genius to do the math and see what they’re doing wrong.

That’s not the only problem. This is a perfect example of product placement completely ruining a picture. Mercedes-Benz is the official sponsor/distraction and they most definitely got their money’s worth, because A Good Day to Die Hard feels like an hour and a half Benz commercial; a very bad Benz commercial at that. Seriously, all the villains ride BMWs and we even get a shot of them all exploding. There’s another shot of the G-Class crushing a Porsche, and in one ridiculous scene the G-Class slams into a tank and drives it off a bridge, when it reality the car would fall apart merely touching it. Anyway, the product placement spans the whole runtime of the film and the Mercedes-Benz logo gets more screen time than Bruce Willis.

Which leads me to another issue I have. Whoever wrote the script should’ve capitalized on the fans love for John McLane. Not only does he share the action with his son, who is played by a horrible actor (I didn’t even bother looking up his name), but he also bores us with cheesy father-son talk in a film that is supposed to be anything but lovey-dovey. Finally, what we loved about John McLane in the past was seeing him all bruised up and barely in shape to save the day. Remember how cool it was in the first one when he walked barefoot on glass? Here, McLane is virtually invisible. He doesn’t get shot once while walking through showers of bullets. As a chopper tries to crash the floor he’s in, he jumps off the window and gives the pilot the finger mid-air for fuck’s sake.

Apparently, McLane has evolved into a dumb character too. I’m serious. He goes to Russia to see his son, but nevertheless keeps saying the horrible catchphrase, “I’m on vacation.” No, dude. You’re not on vacation; you booked the flight to see your son one last time before he gets sent to jail; idiot. Anyway, I kept watching the film hoping I’d at least get my money’s forth in the traditional badass “Yippe-Ki-Yay” scene, and guess what? He utters the line and a freaking Benz saves the moment. It’s a good day to retire this franchise.

Django Unchained is Tarantino’s third feature in his revenge trilogy, the first being Kill Bill and the second being Inglorious Basterds. Jamie Foxx is Django (“the D is silent”), a slave with a few words who wants to seek revenge against those who abused and separated him from his wife. To do so, he teams up with Dr. King Schultz (Christopher Waltz), a bounty hunter seeking the notorious slave owner Calvin Candy, played brilliantly by Leonardo DiCaprio.

The film is very much an ensemble piece with many great performances, my favorite of which has to be Samuel L. Jackson’s best performance since Pulp Fiction, as a grumpy head of slaves referred to as Stephen. The extended dinner table scene is another great moment in the film. The entire scene plays like a psychological chess game between everyone involved from the guests, the servants, to the landowners.

Despite many memorable scenes including a living room death match and Candy coldly ordering a slave to be ripped apart by dogs, Django Unchained feels like it was stitched together carelessly. For one thing, it seems like Tarantino wanted to reference too many Westerns in cameos and sacrifices plot to satisfy fans of the genre.

We also end up with an ending that feels rushed, in a cheap way, to tie everything up in a matter of minutes. I don’t know about you, but I felt like I’ve seen all that before. There’s nothing new to see. Tarantino does not break any new ground; he simply walks on soil previously fertilized by his former works.

I wouldn’t go as far and say Tarantino lost it, but I have my doubts if he has anything new to offer to his loyal fan base. In my honest opinion, I think Martin McDonagh, the director of the masterpiece In Bruges, seems to be doing better Tarantino movies than Tarantino himself lately. I enjoyed this year’s Seven Psychopaths a whole lot more than Django Unchained and find myself looking forward to his movies more than I’m looking forward to the next Tarantino flick.

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and Brokeback Mountain were both films that moved me deeply. Besides providing stories the viewer simply can’t shake off for days after the initial viewing, all of Lee’s films are feasts for the eyes. But perhaps none of his previous works match the visual poetry of his latest stroke of genius.

To say my expectations were met would be an understatement. Life of Pi reaffirmed that there is humanity in cinema. I understand that the film was an international bestseller, but this story was meant to be adapted to the greatest art form of the modern age: cinema. It’s one of those rare cases where words would not do the story justice. It has to be seen to be believed.

The film centers on the son of a zookeeper who, due to unfortunate events, finds his family and himself on a freighter to Canada. All the animals are on board and are to be sold once they arrive. A shipwreck later, he finds himself alone on a lifeboat with a tiger, zebra, monkey and hyena. Throughout the film, he forms a remarkable bond with the most beautifully realistic CGI tiger you could imagine.

This is all told in flashback as the story is being told to a reporter. Our adult protagonist promises that by the end of the tale, the reporter will believe in God. I don’t know how they missed a chance to market this story with the following tagline: “A story that will make you believe in God.” I suppose it doesn’t really matter, Life of Pi has already grossed over $450 million worldwide so far.

I’m glad my review will be published a week after the film’s initial release in Egypt, because it’s a film that invites analysis. Most of you have seen this film by now and this gives me some room to discuss the film’s message. For those of you who still haven’t seen Life of Pi at IMAX, I recommend you stop reading at this point to avoid spoilers and let the above serve as a very positive review.

The minute I walked out the theater, I could already hear groups of people debating endlessly about which version of the story is true. It’s a shame, because this very debate contradicts the message of Life of Pi. It’s up to the viewer to believe in one or the other. Here’s the tricky part. Viewers were using evidence from the mid-section/survival chapter to support their theories, but they were clearly looking at the wrong place. You see; Lee clearly gives enough evidence to support both stories. We are left with only one fact; there was a shipwreck and he survived.

To understand the film’s message, one can’t neglect the existence of the first half of the film. Everything pre-shipwreck shows our main character admiring one religion after the other. He finds faith and God in Jesus, Buddhism and Muslim prayers, but he also believes in science like his father. This is vital to the story, because it holds the key to this wonderful tale’s message. It doesn’t matter what religion you follow, or don’t for that matter. As long as you’re happy and find reason for your existence, it’s absolutely no one’s right to tell you otherwise. If only humans would live and let live, the world will be a better place for everyone.

The same applies for the film’s interpretation. There is no right answer, because it doesn’t matter which is true. Lee tries to let the viewer take a leap of faith and choose to believe in whichever version he/she wants to believe in. I suppose those who back the tiger’s tale are more spiritual and those backing the cook’s tale are governed by reason, science, and probability. Therefore, it’s completely pointless and contradicting to debate for either side, because you would be doing the very thing the film asks you not to do. For that simple reason, I won’t reveal nor back up which version I believe to be true, because that’s entirely up to you. Lee let’s the viewer fill in the blanks.

I’ll close this review with an applicable quote by one of cinema’s greatest directors, Stanley Kubrick: “I would not think of quarreling with your interpretation nor offering any other, as I have found it always the best policy to allow the film to speak for itself.”

If this film isn’t nominated for Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor, Best Actress, Best Supporting Actor and Best Adapted Screenplay, I’ll lose my faith in the Oscars. I refuse to call it a chick flick because it’s meant to be enjoyed by both genders. If there’s one film you will see this week, make it this heartwarming tale of love, joy and forgiveness.

Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence command the screen with natural chemistry that will leave you wanting more. Time flies when you’re having fun, and this is a solid exemplar of this saying. Clocking at over two hours, The Silver Linings Playbook feels more like thirty minutes. I simply did not want to take my eyes off the characters I so warmly embraced and grew to love. You’ll walk out the theatre in an upbeat mood with a wide grin carving your face for the remainder of your day.

Pat (Bradley Cooper) plays a young man fresh out of a mental institution. During his stint in the hospital, he lost everything, including his wife, job and house. As depressing as this may seem, Pat refuses to give in to depression, for he believes that by staying positive, everything will work out in the end. In comes, Tiffany (Jennifer Lawrence), the girl next door who, like him, isn’t 100% stable either. They come to an agreement to help each other get what they want. In his case, it’s his wife back. As for her, she only needs a partner to enter a dance competition.

There’s a humanity in this film that seems scarce nowadays. The dialogue in this film is phenomenal. It’ll have you laughing out loud one second, and silently wiping tears from your eyes the next. Perfectly timed spurts of dialogue sound genuinely witty, because they seem to come out of character rather than a screenwriter’s sense of humor. Chris Tucker makes a welcome return to the screen as a mental institution escapee who always comes out of nowhere, adding a sense of unpredictability to the movie.

But if there’s one performance that deserves most of the praise, it’s the bittersweet performance of the legendary Robert De Niro. He plays an Eagles fanatic desperately trying to reconnect with his son, Pat. De Niro is, in my opinion, the most talented actor to ever grace this planet. He has acted in more classics than anyone out there and here Bobby D proves his versatility has no boundaries. While his choices of films have been somewhat disappointing as of late, De Niro reminds us that he’s still the master of his domain.

The Silver Linings Playbook follows the same formula of every other romantic comedy out there, but it follows it so well, you’ll understand why it became a formula in the first place. The dialogue is fast, unexpected and honest; the performances are marvelous, and the pace is outstanding. The Silver Linings Playbook is a slapstick comedy that ranks up there with the best of Hollywood’s long-forgotten classics. David O. Russell managed to create one of the best feel-good treasures in a long time.

It chronicles around the greatest manhunt in human history, the long search for Osama Bin Laden. The film focuses on the single-minded determination of Maya to locate the terrorist. In that sense, it works both as a character study and a report on the incidents leading to perhaps CIA’s most accomplished mission.

There probably isn’t a single viewer out there who doesn’t know how this film ends, but make no mistake, this is one of the most suspenseful films of the year thanks to Bigelow’s concentrated, intense pacing. There’s always a threat of a characters losing their lives in this long dedicated attempt to bring an end to the world’s most wanted man. Zero Dark Thirty spans a decade from the horrific events of 9/11 to the Navy SEAL raid on Bin Laden’s compound in Abbottabad, Pakistan. The scenes of that operation will have you gasping for air. They feel authentic, realistic and accurate.

Even though the film has been criticized for promoting torture as a method of interrogation, I beg to differ. In fact, if anything the film shows that torture was not the primary force that led to Bin Laden’s death, but rather careful monitoring and a deep understanding of how Al Qaeda’s network works.

The film benefits from a strong cast lead by the great Jessica Chastain. Chastain is a remarkable actress who seems to have come out of nowhere to take Hollywood by storm with her sudden workaholic-like attitude towards acting. Last year alone she gave six powerful performances in films that gained much critical acclaim. Two of those films ended up battling against one another at the Oscars, and this year Zero Dark Thirty is an even bigger threat to the big prize than anything she’s did last year.

The young actress was discovered and handpicked by Al Pacino for a reason. Chastain already has a second shot at Oscar glory since her momentous breakthrough last year. It’s great to see female actresses and, particularly, directors being taken seriously in Hollywood. Here, Bigelow shows the world that her directorial effort in The Hurt Locker was not a one hit wonder and Chastain carries a rather heavy film effortlessly on her shoulders.

I don’t know how much of Zero Dark Thirty is fact or fiction, what I do know is that it’s most definitely one of the year’s best films. Even if it’s not a great historic retrospective piece, it’s hard to argue against this being a great movie. The long quest to end the reign of Osama Bin Laden is brought to life in horrific detail; at the film’s most climatic scene, you’ll forget you’re even watching a movie.

Denzel Washington delivers one of the year’s strongest performances as Whip Whitaker, a pilot struggling with alcohol addiction. The film takes off with Whitaker drinking the night before (and the morning of) a flight that goes horribly wrong due to problems with the engine. We also see him drinking during the flight itself. Technically though, Whitaker evens things out by snorting cocaine. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

In other words, he single handedly redefined the definition of being high by literally flying 30,000 feet off-ground and, figuratively speaking, being in a whole other state of mind.  The things people do on coke, I tell you; one minute you’re sniffing white powder, the next you’re intentionally flipping a JR-88 full of passengers upside down. That’s right, Whitaker purposely inverts the plane to break a free-fall and his miraculous feat saves almost everyone onboard.

A few days later, Whitaker attempts to quit everything. He pours alcohol down the sink and flushes a bag of weed down the toilet (a shot many will find every bit as shocking as the actual plane crash). Anyway, the rest of the film plays more like a character study of an alcoholic. I think the point wasn’t to show an impressive plane crash, but rather symbolically portray the psychological journey of an alcoholic.

Alcoholics often seek help after they’ve done something terribly wrong, be it cheating on a loved one, saying something extremely inappropriate, or luckily escaping death. Flight is an allegory for that journey, the crash is a metaphor for the disaster that often serves as a wake-up call, and everything that follows is more or less about finding the courage to take responsibility for your actions.

The film always seems to dwell on the question of whether Whitaker deserves to be hailed a hero, or should be set as an example never to pilot a plane while intoxicated.  On the one hand, you have a lawyer and the survivors fighting for him. On the other, there’s the aircraft manufacturer desperately trying to push the blame on someone other than itself.

Whitaker did save a lot of lives, but he also deserves to be charged. Should he really face life in prison for risking the lives of over a hundred souls the moment he sat in that cockpit both drunk and high? Or should he be given a medal for accomplishing something that no other pilot has achieved successfully in flight simulation?

What’s really going to burst your bubble is, would he have the balls to pull of this crazy stunt if he wasn’t high on cocaine? Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying hitting at least four lines of coke should be a piloting prerequisite, I’m merely saying that if, God-forbid, I was on a plane that was going nose-down, I want my pilot to be as high as a freaking kite.

The film kicks off with a prologue that nicely ties this new trilogy with the latter entries. Like Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring, it starts with Gandalf the Grey visiting the peaceful land of Hobbits, the Shire. He assembles a carefully picked group of odd characters to reclaim the lost Dwarf Kingdom of Erebor, which we learn was taken by a fearsome dragon known as Smaug.

The pack is lead by the legendary warrior Thorin Oakenshield, who takes on a role similar to that of Aargon of The Lord of the Rings. We learn that after the dwarfs fled their inflamed mountain; they wandered Middle-Earth helpless and homeless. They never settled for a land, and it is Thorin who single-handedly kept them safe in battles against Orcs.

However, at the center of the tale is Bilbo Baggins, played marvelously by Martin Freeman. One thing this film has going for it is a much more likable central character than the Rings trilogy. Unlike Elijah Wood’s whiny portrayal of Frodo, Freeman is witty, charming, humorous, and a joy to watch.

Clocking at nearly three hours, The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey covers the first third of the book. Don’t let that turn you off though, for this makes room for a lot of character development and Jackson fills it with extended battle sequences. The film is in every sense a feast to the eye, with state-of-the-art CGI and breathtaking landscapes.

I imagine many filmgoers will walk into this film with extremely high expectations. Make no mistake, the mood and essence of the Lord of the Rings lingers with you throughout the picture thanks to Howard Shore’s similar score; yet, to fully appreciate this film, you’ll have to tone down your expectations. The Hobbit is less epic, more lighthearted and humorous than the original trilogy. Instead of endless armies of Orcs, for example, the threat is more or less a gang of Orcs. I have a feeling the films will get a lot darker as the trilogy progresses on, as was the case previously.

One thing that always puzzled me about the Tolkien adventures is how at the most critical moment, Gandalf seems to come out of nowhere rescuing his mates with large eagle like creatures who pick up our characters and drop them off at a safer place.

Now, we know the film largely relies on it being a journey where characters walk through hell to reach their ultimate destination, but wouldn’t it be a lot easier if those bird-like creatures just flew them all the way to their destination? I suppose this is a plot hole I’m willing to dismiss, because we wouldn’t have an adventurous tale if it were that easy (which it is).  Still, unlike its title, the first of the Hobbit films is very much an expected journey and that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

Ayer’s first writing credit is the accomplished Training Day. His body of work shows that the power of the badge often drives cops to corruption. The one thing Harsh Times, Street Kings, Dark Blueand Training Day have in common is people of authority abusing their powers. With End of Watch, Ayer delves into the flip side of that coin. It’s a real love letter to the force, in particular, the good honest cops who risk their lives everyday to make their city a safer place for everyone.

This is a real challenge since the conventions of the genre have almost neglected their existence. InEnd of Watch, no one is breaking any rules. This is a micro-storyline, following Brian Taylor (Jake Gyllenhaal) and his partner Mike Zavala (Michael Peña) as they drive by the city in patrol. Through their natural and often humorous conversations between jobs, we learn more about the men behind the badges. Ayer uses this intimacy to make his viewers care for his characters. It’s a smart move because the more we care for them, the more we fear for their fates.

End of Watch is shot in that shaky handy-cam style and this is one those rare cases where the film benefits from the realism of the documentary like style of film-making. The film’s only flaw is the source of this footage. While we’re sold on the idea of a cop filming his adventures, it’s hard to believe that criminals are doing the same. In fact, every chapter seems to be filmed by someone within the scene. At first it becomes distracting, but eventually, I embraced its purpose. After all, most of the real car chases, arrests gone wrong and conflicts we see on TV are shown old through hidden, CCTV-like footage.

While the film doesn’t follow a particular plotline, things eventually pick off when our main characters are marked for death by the cartel after they bust drugs, money, and firearms during a routine call. The film is extremely hard-hitting. It’s both humorous and downright heartbreaking at the same time. In fact, I don’t remember the last time I feared for the fate of characters on screen like I did here. I was completely absorbed, on the edge, and praying for a good outcome that only seemed more unlikely as things escalated to the slap in the face of an ending.

We’re approaching the end of the year, which means we get to see all the treasures studios have been saving up for Oscar season. End of Watch is the best cop drama in years; it’s a triumph and perhaps David Ayer’s best work yet. It’s not for the faint of heart though, and I must throw this out there. End of Watch is the real deal; graphic, shocking and gritty. If you’re still not convinced to see this film, I’ll let the powerful opening narration be your deciding factor:

“I am the police, and I’m here to arrest you. You’ve broken the law. I did not write the law. I may disagree with the law but I will enforce it. No matter how you plead, cajole, beg or attempt to stir my sympathy, nothing you do will stop me from placing you in a steel cage with gray bars. If you run away, I will chase you. If you fight me, I will fight back. If you shoot at me, I will shoot back. By law I am unable to walk away. I am a consequence. I am the unpaid bill. I am fate with a badge and a gun. Behind my badge is a heart like yours. I bleed, I think, I love, and yes, I can be killed. And although I am but one man, I have thousands of brothers and sisters who are the same as me. They will lay down their lives for me and I them. We stand watch together. The thin-blue-line, protecting the prey from the predators, the good from the bad. We are the police.”

Click “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” for my in-depth analysis.